Absurdity
by StrangeToMiss
Summary: Tweek Tweak kinda sorta has a crush on Craig Tucker. Meanwhile, Craig Tucker has an irrational interest in making Tweek Tweak be his third bro. It's hard to be friends with your crush. Especially when they increase your paranoia and anxiety. But Tweek doesn't want to be friend-zoned! Craig & Tweek POV Very fluffy, lots of Clyde-Craig broship moments,
1. Staring Contest Tweek POV

Tweek POV

No one knew that Tweek was gay. Unless they had a well-working gay-dar, anyway. Tweek had never dated. He himself only knew he was gay because of the thoughts he had around certain boys. Boys like Kyle, Stan, Kenny, and Craig. Craig was thought to be asexual. Stan was straight. Kenny was bi, but a whore. Tweek wasn't sure if Kyle was straight or not, but Tweek didn't really want a relationship with the fiery red-head. Kyle was too loud and passionate. Actually, Tweek didn't really want a relationship at all. No one talked to the paranoid twitchy blond boy very much. Society tended to ignore him.

The desks were made into a circle. Admittedly, it looked lame. There were eight desks to make the circle. There were only four desk-made circles in the room. Not many students were in this particular History class. Tweek had been doing fine where he was originally seated (in the right back corner where no one bothered him), but the teacher was bored of having the room look like that. She (some woman who Tweek couldn't remember the name of) wanted the room to look nicer. She had told the class that the circles would make maneuvering around the room easier.

Unfortunately, the circle made it so that if you and whoever sat across the circle from you looked up, you would be looking into their eyes. Tweek never liked it when people stared at him. This class would not be ideal. Bebe was sitting to the left of Tweek. To the left of her was Wendy. To the left of Wendy, some girl Tweek didn't know. Then, across from Tweek, was Craig Tucker. Next to him was Clyde, Craig's best friend other than Token. Then some other guy that Tweek didn't know. And then, the person on the right to Tweek was Thomas. Something strange happened to Tweek on the first day of sitting in this odd circle group.

Tweek Tweak had been minding his own business. He was on page forty-five of the first Harry Potter book. Everything seemed to be all right. Tweek looked up to check the time. Instead of numbers on a digital clock, he saw the gray eyes and stoic face of one Craig Tucker. Paranoia settled in.

Tweek nervously looked to the right. Eyes automatically dropping to the floor, the blond repeatedly thought that no, Craig Tucker was not looking at him. Tweek's cheeks were turning a light pink. He quickly peeked at the boy sitting across from him. Cold gray eyes locked with Tweek's. Tweek fidgeted and squirmed while Craig's eyes never wavered. For as long as Tweek could (which was little more than 10 seconds), Tweek looked back. Then Tweek whipped his head to the right. Oh yeah, Craig was definitely staring at him. Tucker's infamous poker face frightened Tweek. What was he staring at? I know I'm ugly, no need to stare at me like that. Oh jeez.

Half a minute later, Tweek slowly risked a glance forward and Craig's eyes met his again. Brown eyes widened and the blond boy's blush grew more apparent. Tweek Tweak momentarily forgot how to breathe. Please stop staring at me, Tweek tried to telepathically communicate, I just want to read about wizards and witches and escape real life. Not a moment later had the thought crossed his mind, Craig half-smirked at him. Only the right corner of Craig's lips turned up. It made Tweek wanted to piss his pants and throw up at the same time. Butterflies (they felt more like evil ninjas stabbing him to death slowly) were wreaking havoc in Tweek's stomach. He helplessly tried to stop himself from staring at the cement-like eyes. Gray eyes were rare in the world. Very few people had them. No one else in South Park had gray eyes. Not even Craig's father or mother.

Tweek's heart thumped against his chest. Would Craig never stop? Class was about to begin. The Tucker boy laughed. It was quiet and short. No one else seemed to hear it. He's laughing at me, the blond thought, but it's such a nice sound. Tweek's lips unknowingly formed a smile. Craig continued to stare at him.

All too soon, or perhaps not soon enough, the bell rang. Craig redirected his gaze to the door, and Tweek let out a screech. Late students rushed into the room. Tweak put away his book. The teacher began to talk. The rest of the hour passed normally, and Craig didn't speak or look at the anxious blond. Tweek felt oddly disappointed and relieved.

* * *

The rest of the week, Craig acted as he usually had, uncaring and normal as ever. He talked to Clyde. Craig didn't talk to Tweek, or even look at him. Tweek felt stupid and confused. Then again, Tweek almost always felt stupid and confused. But this sort of confusion wasn't like the other confusion he usually had. This confusion left him more anxious, worried, and even a little hurt. His regular confusion wasn't people related, as people did not often speak to him. Regular confusion was simply school book related, well usually anyway. The confusion Tweek felt now was all because of Craig Tucker. Who stares at someone like that one day, and ignores that someone the next? Tweek had never been stared at like how Craig had stared. It was confusing. Life was confusing. Everything was confusing.

* * *

Two weeks after their staring contest (which Craig had most definitely won), Craig spoke to him. Tweek was too amazed at the fact Craig had actually spoke to him, an outcast of normal society for being bat-shit insane, that he didn't notice a word Craig was saying. Tweek just kind-of sort-of lost all control of his body and gaped at Craig like a fish that had been thrown on land. Craig viciously smirked (Tweek saw his perfect white teeth for maybe half of a millisecond) and Tweek's cheeks burned. Tweek had Craig's undivided attention. Craig repeated himself. Tweek paid more attention this time.

Craig's voice spoke, "Are you having a good day today." Craig's question sounded a lot more like statement. It was a statement that if Tweek didn't answer, Tweek would likely die a thousand deaths. They would be horrible, frightening, painful deaths. "Well yeah I suppose. Ngh. Nothing extraordinarily good has happened today, but I guess it's still okay, I mean it's just like any other day, you know? It's snowing like it always is. And um so I guess that's normal, just like you like, huh? Oh jeez I didn't mean to say that, nnnnnghh, umm uh ummmmm I'm fine," Tweek rambled. He blushed and stuttered and nothing could stop the words coming out of his mouth. Craig's lips formed that half-smirk again. Craig's normal uncaring eyes seemed to find Tweek's answer humorous. Tweek's heart thumped louder and louder. Craig focused his attention on something else (something far more important than Tweek would ever be, Tweek told himself) and the three minute mostly one-sided conversation was over. Tweek wanted to scream. He wanted to have Craig's attention again. Tweek thought that he shouldn't be thinking this and told himself to shut up.

The next day, Craig ignored him again. Actually, it was worse than that, Tweek would've been glad if all Craig had done was ignored him. Instead, Craig talked to Thomas. The first thing the goddamned Tucker did was look into Tweek's eyes (Tweek had positively melted), and claim the seat (the boy, which was supposed to sit there and that Tweek didn't care to know the name of, was sick at home) between Clyde and Thomas. Motherfucking Thomas took all of Craig's attention. It wasn't like Tweek didn't like him, because Thomas was okay and just another person who ignored his existence. Tweek was jealous. It almost seemed like Craig knew it, too. Craig didn't take his eyes away from Thomas. The entire time, they worked together on the assignment. They chatted, and Tweek's heart dropped. Tweek did his work, but couldn't stop frowning. Not that anyone noticed, of course.

Tweek moped all of the rest of the day. In the two classes left someone would question why, and Tweek's only answer was that he didn't feel quite right. It was amazing how when you wanted friends and people to talk to, no one wanted too, but when you felt like cursing the world, people wanted to be with you. Actually, it had surprised Tweek that someone had spoken to him. The first person had been Kyle, and the second person Butters. They were good friendly people. It was so incredibly nice of them, thought Tweek miserably the following morning, and I didn't even thank them for it.

The day after that, Craig did a similar thing. He gave Tweek his usual half-smile and sat (Where was that boy at? He needs to come back now.) next to Thomas. Tweek knew his crush on Craig was getting out of hand. He wanted to kill Thomas with a flamethrower and hide his body (or ashes) in the ocean. Tweek tried to stop the uncontrollable anger and disappointment he felt when Thomas smiled at Craig. That's my Craig, you asshole, Tweek had thought. Tweek didn't feel good about thinking it, in fact he felt (and thus looked) guilty. The awkward blond boy sighed. Craig's head began to turn around. A lot of things happened to Tweek in that moment. His heart sped up, his cheeks blushed, his eyes widened, and his breath hitched. He waited painstakingly for Craig to turn around. And turn around, Craig did. Craig's gray eyes now stared into Tweek's. Tweek felt great. Tweek Tweak was delighted that Craig was noticing him once more. But of course, the bell rang only a few seconds later. Ffffffffff, Tweek mentally screamed.


	2. Blondie Craig POV

Craig POV

It's not easy to ignore the completely random noises emitted by the strange creature that sits across from me. I can hardly concentrate on school work when there is something far more intriguing to be focusing on. The creature that I am speaking of does in fact look to be human. Wild blond hair and large observant light brown eyes (I don't think he's slept in a while, just look at those purple bags underneath) describe this freak-of-nature human. He has this really thick book opened and is actually reading it. I don't think I'd ever be able to read a book that big.

In the short time I've come to the realization that he exists, he has done strange things. Constantly shouting about conspiracy theories, how the government is out to get him, and that everything is way too much pressure, he has captured my interest. I think he even mentioned gnomes once or twice? What does that even mean? Not many things or people can achieve grabbing my short attention span. Certainly not the teachers of South Park Highschool, although I do recognize that they are trying. It's commendable, how they try to improve my grades.

I've never really noticed him before the desks were rearranged. Has he really been here all along? I begin to study his face trying to recognize the guy. I seriously don't remember his name. I'm sure we've been classmates for years, but quite honestly I'm forgetful. That and my I-don't-give-a-damn-about-any-of-you attitude probably lead to this momentous awkward event. I've been staring too long. I can't help it though. He just looks so different from everyone else. He's vibrating on his seat; I didn't even know that it was possible to be that anxious. He's chewing on his lower lip. It doesn't appear that he realizes it. Looks almost like a nervous tick. How did I not notice him before?

As I'm contemplating this, his head suddenly jerks up. He has terror in those wide eyes of his. He looks so similar to my newest guinea pig Stripe the second (he doesn't trust me yet either), that I simply cannot look away. He snaps his head in an overly obvious attempt at getting me to stop my likely looking-like-a-total-creeper stare. Woops. My bad. I can't stop now though; he's beginning to form a blush. He looks pretty damn cute, if I do so think it myself. Looks don't matter half as much as personality to me though. Not that I've ever dated anyone. Not that it matters, though, right? Most of the girls here in South Park are just superficial. None of the guys are out of the closet; assuming there are guys in the closet, that is.

Oh, blondie's moving again. He really does look nice. I can feel my sanity slipping. Ever so slowly, he peeks up to look at me. I notice that his eyes have miniscule specs of other color in them. What the actual fuck. Not that I haven't noticed other people's eyes before, but I can sense the awkward in the air. Aw shit, I'm spacing out again. I'm probably scaring him.

By the time I notice my surroundings, Tweek Tweak is no longer facing me. The blond boy almost unwillingly swings his head back to look at me. I'm not all that great at reading body language or socializing with others, but I'm pretty sure he's confused. I think he's thinking too hard; his lip is all set to pout mode. I can't stop myself from grinning (without showing my fucked up teeth, of course), so I manage to smirk with only half of my face. Which I'm sure doesn't look very great, but whatever. I'm Craig motherfucking Tucker. I don't give a shit. Well, I don't give a shit until I see him blanching. Then I feel a little bad. I laugh at my internal bickering. My mind is such a fun place to be.

My almost biporal happiness seems to be infectious, because twitchy over there can't help but grin. I take in as many details so that I can go over them with Clyde and Token and discuss if he would be an ideal candidate for being our bro. His teeth are small, perfectly white (How does he drink coffee so often and have white teeth?) and his hair is just a mess on his head. His hair must be anti-gravity, because I swear it's just sticking straight up and I just don't see antsy Tweek as the type of guy to do his hair every morning.

The bell rang, and I directed my gaze towards the door. One hour and I would be out of here. Several students who had previously been sucking face or hurrying back from their lockers for books entered the room. I decided to attempt to pay attention to the teacher because let's face it, I can do better than a barely-D almost-failing grade in History class.

The next morning, I came to the realization that I had been really weird to poor Tweek. So I decided to make it up to him (and myself, I know I'm weird but what happened yesterday was just… really weird) by letting him be. I didn't talk to him or even look at him. I didn't want to scare him any farther.

"Hey bro, did you do the homework?" the idiot (commonly referred to as "Clyde") asked in a worried tone. I glared at him for a while just because I liked to tease him and then replied, "No." The actual answer was yes. But if Clyde copied me word from word (obviously too dumb to rewrite in his own words so the teacher wouldn't catch us) as he had last time, we would both have detention. Not that I minded just sitting in a classroom for an extra hour of sleep, but I had to clean Stripe's cage today. I suppose my answer didn't matter to my best friend, because he took my paper and copied it anyway. Sigh.

I continued my life as I always had, before I had noticed the paranoid twitcher (that's probably a real word, and if it's not then it is now) sitting across from me. Various things happened in this class including but not limited to:

Listening to my dumbass friend Clyde talk about chicks (ugh dude gross I don't wanna hear about your "glorious infinitely-better-than-yours-Craig-so-there sex life)

Hearing bitchy Bebe gossip, gossip, gossip (I seriously didn't want to hear any of this, it's more than likely 50% bullshit)

Hearing Wendy complain (Stan's penis isn't all that great? Surprise, surprise)

Sneakily (meaning: only when he wasn't looking in my general direction) watching Tweek Tweaker McTweakin twitch (so many T's in one sentence, my English teacher would be so proud)

Being a douchebag to random people just because I could

Talking to Clyde about several different things: video games, Megaman (I don't care what you say, Zero is sexy), parties we were gonna crash this weekend, movies (we have to watch Scott Pilgrim Vs the World, begged crybaby Clyde)

The week was over before I knew it. Time had flown right by.

* * *

Another week passed, and I deemed it enough time to make anything between Tweek and me not awkward. I might have been wrong for guessing that the awkwardness was over though, because when I spoke to him his eyes went funny and his mouth opened. I swear on my worthless soul, he was about to die. Seriously, just flop over and die. Just like that.

But then he must have noticed his strange reaction because he attempted to look normal. I smirked at him with my all mighty power, and I knew I looked like a total badass. Clyde liked to tell me I looked like a shark when I smirked. I tried not to smile because my teeth are really bad, overbite and crooked. In desperate need of braces and all that other dentist-y stuff.

He asked me to repeat what I had said, so I did, "Are you having a good day today?" I knew my voice carried no emotion but I couldn't help it. He looked startled for a second than the words rushed out of his mouth, "Well yeah I suppose. Ngh. Nothing extraordinarily good has happened today, but I guess it's still okay, I mean it's just like any other day, you know? It's snowing like it always is. And um so I guess that's normal, just like you like, huh? Oh jeez I didn't mean to say that, nnnnnghh, umm uh ummmmm I'm fine." Did he just sass me? That was when I knew blondie was going to be my next bitch, and by bitch I mean friend. Token would approve to another bitch in our gang of friendship, but Clyde might be jelly and go all crazy and whatnot. I, however, am the pimp daddy in our relationship and he will just have to get over it.

Noting that Tweek seemed to be extremely embarrassed, I looked away. I would have to ask Token about how to go about making Tweek our next friend. I was far too unsocial and my douchebaggery might frighten the paranoid freak. My social skills were little to none, and I didn't want to make an ass of myself.

When History class ended, I told Clyde that he couldn't have plans tomorrow because we were all going to Token's house. I then called Token. I said plainly to Token, "We can hang out at your house tomorrow for some quality bro-time, kay" and hung up. No time for chatting, bell was about to ring for 5th hour and I was still by the door of 4th hour History. Needless to say, I hauled ass and just barely made it to my 5th hour Photography class.

The next day, Clyde informed me that we had History homework due today. After a brief oh-shit moment, I briefly glanced over at Tweek. Would he have his homework done? That was when I remembered Token telling me how Thomas (who just happened to have an empty seat next to him) always does his smart-ass math (Advanced Placement blablabla why do you like math?) homework. If you are in advanced classes, you always do your non-advanced homework too, right? I got off my chair and had Clyde move my things over so I could copy off the dirty-blond math wizard.

As I got closer, I could just barely hear the muttering noises Thomas made. It reminded me of Tweek. The only difference was that Thomas said cuss words. "Shit," Thomas initiated the conversation, "what do you want?" He sounded confused, but not annoyed, which I was thankful for. I bluntly replied, "Can I copy the homework?" He gave me a brief glance of disapproval and started digging through all of the papers in his binder. Hell yeah, I was saved.

After I finished copying the assignment, I decided to attempt to give my thanks to Thomas. "Thank you, you just saved my grade," my voice was as nasally as ever. Looking me right in the eyes (I commend him, not many can do it), Thomas snippily said back, "Don't make it a habit." His attitude didn't faze me.

I was pleasantly surprised a few minutes later when Thomas apologized for acting rudely. "Sorry, I'm just really tired. My gay friend Pip kept me up all night because he has a hot date today. He sounded really excited though, so I don't mind too much." I was used to people telling me stuff they wouldn't normally tell others. I did not give a shit, and thus would not tell anyone potential gossip. If you needed someone to confide in, I was a perfect candidate. I retorted "It's fine," because I really didn't give a shit. For some reason I felt I owed Thomas for letting me copy his homework. I went on a whim and told him I would do today's homework and let him copy. He chuckled and said that would be great but not to forget about it.

A few hours later I was at Token's house, eating pizza and playing Marvel vs. Capcom 3. It was awesome because this was my first time playing it, and I had no idea what the hell I was doing. I just kept mashing several buttons and ended up kicking serious ass. Sweet.

When the pizza was gone, I told my two best friends that Tweek Tweak from History class was going to join us. I didn't know how or when, but it would happen. Clyde pouted and whined, "He's a freak, Craig, come on, please, noooo…"  
Token, the reasonable one, said, "Sure, it's cool with me." I then made them help me with the History homework I had agreed to do for Thomas.

The following day, having been given blessings by the only friend that mattered, I attempted a half-smirk-no-teeth-smile at my friend-to-be Tweek. I sat by Thomas and let him copy my work. When he was done, he decided to let me know how Pip's date had went. He explained, "Pip was gushing about how nice Damien was. Apparently, Damien paid for their dinner and movie. Pip, the lucky bastard, said he was good kisser." I nodded in response. Thomas's easy-going attitude was completely opposite of all the Tourette's syndrome cussing. I didn't really care about Pip and Damien too much. I mean, good for them, or whatever.

I turned my head to ask Clyde what time it was, and my twitchy friend was staring at me. I only felt slightly creeped out, but didn't judge because I had stared creepily at him a few weeks ago. His light brown eyes got bigger and a blush appeared when he noticed he had been caught staring. I didn't question blondie's behavior. It was natural to be embarrassed when someone catches you in the act of doing something you aren't necessarily supposed to do. Seconds later the bell rang, and just like every other student, I strolled out of class. I might have Clyde start Operation Tweek Tweak (made it up myself) tomorrow. If Clyde complained, I'd punch him. It sounded like a good plan to me.


	3. Ends of Rainbows Tweek POV

Tweek POV

I start my school day at 7:30 with Spanish 2. I hardly ever have a good night's sleep, but I am never tired. I am different than everyone else; the others are rubbing their eyes, yawning, or in similar states of sleepiness. Even Stan, the star athlete, is tired. Stan's dark hair has fallen carelessly in front of his half-opened dark blue eyes, but Stan doesn't attempt to move it. Every morning the students are like this. I don't understand. It's not Monday, they were fully aware they had school tomorrow. Why would you not sleep a little more at night if you could? If I could sleep, I would.

Eventually the teacher walks in, coffee in hand, and makes everyone sit up straight. I listen to the teacher (though I believe I am the only one) explain our newest assignment. It's fairly simple. Choose the correct form of verb that matches the subject. It's busy work, the kind teachers give when they don't feel like doing their job. I finish it in half an hour.

I survey my fellow students. Half of them are asleep sitting up (the teacher sees, but doesn't care), some are staring blankly at the assignment on the board, and a few are actually working. Sighing quietly at their incompetent selves, I sip my addiction quietly. Technically speaking, coffee isn't allowed in class. I am one of the few exceptions to this rule. Though I've never considered myself a rebel, if I wasn't allowed by my teachers I would do it anyway. Almost all of my teachers love me. It is because I do my work well without talking. Most of the above average students are exceptions.

By the end of class, I've finished half of my first thermos of coffee. The students are lively now. The dark Debby-downer mood has been substituted for a high-spirited temperament. As I make my way out of the door, a body blocks me. I peer up at Token. Why did he stop me? Token smiles in that charismatic way that surely would make girls like him. Incredulous, I raise one eyebrow. Token politely asks, "Will you sit with us at lunch?" Normally, I sit by myself under a tree. I don't eat much, but when I do eat I prefer that I'm not in the presence of so many people. I know this is the reason for the rumor that I am anorexic.

Then it hits me. Token, best friend of my Craig, wants me to sit with them. I manage a slightly squeaky, very excited, "Yes!" I realize too late that it was a bit loud. Several heads turn our way and I fight my blush. Token genuinely smiles at me as he lets me pass. I watch him walk into Spanish 2. I feel almost unreal. I make my way towards 2nd hour.

* * *

Pre AP Biology and Computer Applications class pass by slowly. I'm just so pumped. I will talk to Craig soon. My stomach tightens just thinking about it. Next hour is lunch. Only when the bell rings do I realize I have no idea where they sit. Aw, shit. I'll find them eventually, I suppose, and I start heading to the overcrowded cafeteria.

On the left, I see Stan, Kyle, Butters, Kenny, and Cartman seated at their own table. A group of giggling girls heads toward the table in front of Stan's table. Bebe, Wendy, Red, Heidi, and several other gigglers occupy it. I decide to ask Kyle where Craig and his group sit at. As I head to Kyle's table to ask the question, I see Craig's table. It's in the left corner of the cafeteria. Clyde Donovan has a big smile on his face. Craig looks unimpressed as ever. Token is slightly smiling.

Nervously approaching their table, I question whether or not Token asking me to sit with them was real. I'm beginning to think it wasn't real when Clyde loudly yells, "Go away, Twe-" Craig has both punched him in the arm and slapped a hand to stop the words from coming out of Clyde's mouth. I can feel myself frowning and begin to turn away. "Wait," cries Token, "don't listen to Clyde, Tweek, he's just grumpy because of Craig. Clyde's really a sweetheart when you get to know him." Clyde tries to object, and all I can half-way understand (Craig's hand is still on Clyde's mouth) is "pft noo annimnat". I don't really want to know what Clyde said. Craig takes his hand off of Clyde's mouth. Clyde pouts for a few minutes while Craig glares daggers at him. Token is smiling at the antics of the two. I find this whole ordeal strange. I twitch a little more than usual then sit next to Token. Token breaks the hostile silence by asking me, "So, Tweek, what class do you have before lunch?"

"Computer Application," I mutter, wondering why he, or anyone, would care.

Craig glances at me and replies, "Nerd." I glare lightly, truly not offended by having been told that. What was wrong with nerds? Seven years from now, nerds will be getting paid big money while the rest of the human population can only hope for some form of employment.

Instead of saying that out loud, I respond with, "I need Computer Application class so I can make sure enemy spies won't track me down from the internet, kill me, and bury my body at the end of a rainbow. Because no one ever finds the ends of rainbows. If people found the ends of rainbows, they would be rich with all the money that greedy selfish leprechaun has. I would never be found, ever." Apparently what I said was extremely funny. Craig is laughing, Clyde's pout has diminished to a friendly smile, and Token's just staring at me in wonder.

"You are insane," Token tells me, shaking his head. I know he doesn't mean to hurt my feelings because he smiles after he says it. Craig cheekily grins at me when he's done laughing. Badump… Badump… Badump… My temperature increases. Stupid crush. Why me? What kind of idiot falls for such a fine jackass?

Clyde stands up and exclaims, "I'm hungry, you guys!"  
Craig exasperatedly tells Clyde, "You're always hungry, fatass." But Craig and Token get up anyway. I screech and hop up, not wanting to be left behind. Won't someone else take the table?

Clyde runs to be first in line (everyone else is already eating). Token shakes his head, as a human would do to a puppy that has been bad, and follows the rascal brunette. Craig saunters forward behind them. I skittishly attempt to keep up.

Clyde carries two trays filled with various lunch items. I see two milks, two hamburgers, a ton of fries, and a cupcake. Craig wasn't kidding about Clyde being a fatass. Craig has lemonade and one hamburger. Token has water and a hamburger. I just have water. We make it to our table (which has remained empty for unknown reasons) safely.

They eat in peace with the occasional comment of Clyde saying how absolutely yummy it is. I sip my water and attempt to relax. Relaxing isn't working though, because my Craig is sitting across from me. I'm silently freaking out.

The bell rings as Craig opens his mouth. Token snickers at Craig's excellent timing. Craig tells me, "You'll have lunch with us tomorrow, yeah?"  
I nod in the affirmative, not trusting my voice. I may or may not be swooning.

Having a crush sucks so much, ugh. I don't like how these feelings control me.

It's kind of awkward when Token leaves. It's just Clyde, Craig, and me walking to History. Clyde, though not glaring at me, is holding my Craig's hand. Craig uses his other hand to hit Clyde's away, but Clyde is persistent.

When History class begins, our circle group is still quiet. There's a little less tension in the air. Maybe it's just me, but everyone seems happier now that most of us have talked to each other. I'm still a little jealous at Thomas, but other than that things are looking good. Craig wants to be near me and that's enough for me. Maybe the apocalypse is coming. At least I'll die happy.

Tomorrow I will talk to Craig, again. Perhaps Token will become my friend in the process. I'm not sure if Clyde hates me, but maybe we can be friends too.

If it happens, they'll be the first friends I've had in a long time. I never realized how much I miss having other people around to talk to until now. It's kind of strange to have this revelation in class. I'm chock full of unwanted hormones and sitting near my crush so maybe it's normal. Maybe I'm becoming more normal. One can only hope.


	4. Asshole Pessimist Craig POV

Author Note: I imagine Craig as being spacey/not all there. He has a ton of imagination; he doesn't need to do things in real life to feel like he's done them. He's annoyed when others interrupt, and his reactions are what make people believe he's a douchebag. Or maybe he is just unsocial uncaring douchebag.

* * *

Craig POV

Operation Tweek Tweak was a go. There had been some slight changes in my plan. Clyde refused to help out so Token took over all of Clyde's parts. The original plan's first step had been Clyde telling Tweek to sit with us, but since Clyde was a jealous son of a bitch, Token had to talk to Tweek instead. To make it worse, Clyde had even told blondie to leave before he sat down. There would be hell to pay tonight, Clyde. You don't say that to people you want to be friends with. As punishment, I don't help him with his English essay. A few days later I figure out he got Token to help, which defeated my purpose.

After a delightful lunch with the insane twitcher and my friends, History came and went. Like the two year old he is, Clyde kept trying to hold my hand when we were walking to History class. Sigh. Some people (read: Clyde) never grow up.

In my next hour, Photography, the teacher told us to finish up our project. I finished the project yesterday, so I just do nothing and think. I relive the very serious look on Tweek's face when he let paranoia and his anxiety get the better of him and told us about dying at the end of a leprechaun rainbow. His mind sounded a lot more fun than mine. I occasionally come up with something as good as that, but I think blondie must think like that all the time. Interesting.

The rest of my day is uneventful. I go to Geometry after Photography. Geometry is so much harder than Algebra 1. Clyde thinks Geometry is easier, but it must suck to be him because our school has two algebra's and only one geometry to take. He pouts every single time I remind him of it. His expression is really, really funny.

That popular Jewish guy Kyle, who is in our grade, is in Pre AP Algebra 2. He's literally a year ahead of everyone in math. If Thomas is a wizard, Kyle must be a god. For a moment, I imagine Thomas in black robes with a pointed hat waving his wand while Kyle's face in the sky watches over him. I chuckle for a while.

* * *

The next day, Tweek shows up at our lunch table like I asked him too. I don't open my mouth when I smile at him. We soon go off and get our lunches.

Token, Clyde, and I begin discussing Modern Warfare 3tactics as we eat. I almost forget Tweek's there until he twitches or gasps or makes one of his odd little noises. Token and I agree that being a sniper is better than being a well, whatever it is Clyde does. Clyde runs around the entire map shooting anyone as he comes across them. He's often killed a lot more times than us because he usually goes off by himself. No body watches his back. Dumbass.

After we've been discussing it for 15 minutes, Clyde suddenly stops.  
Clyde looks at Tweek then asks, "Why are you so quiet?" Tweek twitches once before blushing. Even though I'm an unsocial douchebag, I don't think you're supposed to ask a shy person this. He looks away from our table and his cheeks grow to be a cherry red. He looks mortified.

"Hey," I say to get blondie's attention, "I think quiet people are great." The look Tweek sends me says 'really?' and I don't think he believes me. My voice was monotone, as it always is, and I guess that probably didn't help. I wasn't being sarcastic or funny though, I just wanted to make him feel a bit more comfortable. Tweek doesn't speak the rest of lunch, although I do catch thankful glances being thrown my way.

As Token told me when I asked how to go about befriending blondie, friendships take time. I kind of want to be like that annoying kid on a car ride asking "Are we there yet!" when it's obvious to everyone in the car that no, they are nowhere near there. I wish we were there. Tweek just seems so fun. I don't even know why I'm fond of him. I just need to know more about twitchy.

Token and Clyde continue talking, although I'm not quite sure of what. I know they're speaking but I'm not hearing their words. I just sit in comfortable silence and finish eating my lunch. My friends are used to me ignoring them (a sign of just how much of a douchebag I am) and don't bother talking to me. Often times I catch myself looking at twitchy Tweek. Sometimes I look at a wall or someone walking past our table. Most of the time, I'm looking but not really seeing. Someone could a wave a hand in front of my face, I wouldn't blink. Clyde's done that before when I get like this: no visible emotions, internally slightly sad. Everything just goes by in a blur. I feel like I'm 100 years old; worn out. Making friends is hard. I would sleep right after school, but today I have laundry to do.

This time Clyde walks in front of me, not bothering to try and hold my hand. He knows not to mess with me when I'm being like this. It's very rare for me to be thinking so much on one thing. When my mind's focused like this, I can hardly concentrate on anything surrounding me. The thing my mind's revolving around is walking to the right of me. Twitcher must think I'm at least okay to be walking so close. This thought lifts my slightly damper mood.

We have to read two chapters in History today. Our teacher is an asshat, my internally grumpy self says. I'm frowning as I read the first chapter. It's boring. Not the kind of boring I like, more tedious. Why do I have to know about this stuff that happened so long ago? I don't think it's relevant unless you want to see military strategies or how people lived such a sucky life long ago.

When I look up, Tweek is hunched over his book, reading silently. Bebe is applying eyeshadow. Wendy appeared to be memorizing the information off of the pages. Thomas had a bored look on his face; his book remained closed at his desk. Perhaps he had read the two chapters before and didn't need to read them now.

Then, my gaze went to Clyde. Clyde has this dumb look on his face. Actually, every face he makes is dumb, but this one is just one of the best. His eyes are squinting. His nose is scrunched up. His chubby cheeks are puffed out. His face. You don't even. He knows how to read, right? This is why Clyde Donovan is my best friend.

I snicker and Tweek lifts his head and looks at me. My hands motion to Clyde. Tweek's head turns toward him. I will never forget the look of pure amusement on Tweek's face when he sees Clyde. He looks back towards me and we share a secret smile. Not so bummed out, I look down and continue to read my History book.

* * *

When I get home, I replace the water in Stripe the second's cage. Then I gather my laundry and begin the enjoyable mind-numbing task. There's just something I like about doing laundry. Maybe because of how easy this is. Or maybe it's because I know I'm cleaning something for me. Or it's the smell laundry makes when you use something strong. Whatever the reason, I just really love to do my laundry.

It doesn't matter that this chair is uncomfortable and I'm just sitting in it to watch clothes roll around in water and soap. I don't have to think about how uncomfortable it is. I can just let my mind go. I can think of anything. I can be myself here, in this uncomfortable chair watching my laundry go. I can listen to the sounds of this washing machine and pretend I'm at a concert. Or maybe I'm in a hospital, but everyone's okay because I can hear various equipment working. I visit many places in my mind.

When the clothes are done washing, I carefully put them to be dried. On auto-pilot, I start the machine up and sit down. I'm vaguely aware that I'm falling asleep.

When I wake up, the clothes are dry. Knowing the clothes are too hot to touch, I leave them.

My mind wanders to Tweek. What's he doing right now? I can picture his short scrawny body and anti-gravity hair. His quirky attitude intrigues me. These thoughts are borderline obsessive, so I try to get them out.

In an attempt to stop thinking about him, I get on my computer. It takes a while to load the internet, and when it does load I don't know what I want to do. I could watch youtube. Nah, I don't really feel like it right now. I could play a game. No, I can't think of any online games that I liked and haven't beaten. I could google random things. Mph, maybe later. I could check my grades online. Pass, I'd feel too nerdy. What to do, what to do….

Eventually, I decide to check my Tumblr. I don't get on Tumblr very often, maybe once every other week. Clyde and Token love it when I do because I find the best things to post.

When I click to see what my account looks like (I don't want to double post anything on the first few pages, but if it's on page ten or past then I think it's okay because only someone who stalks you will realize it), a song begins to play. Locomotion by Grand Funk Railroad. I love this song. Well, I love a lot of old songs. I'm pretty sure in a past life that I was a famous flute-ist for a band. How else would you explain how expertly I play the flute? I shake my head a little to clear any thoughts and look at my tumblr.

The heading on my tumblr page reads Asshole Pessimist. There is a great story behind how I received such a fine name. The crybaby was texting me. Clyde and I were arguing about something neither of us truly cared about. It was actually more like playful banter. We were texting each other about whether or not Sherlock Holmes (played by Robert Downey Jr) was a dick or not. I argued that he was in no way such a thing; he was just very gifted and used his big brain to destroy those who had it coming. Eventually, Clyde commented, "He's just an asshole pessimist, like you!" I liked how asshole pessimist sounded (and how it described me in a nutshell), and it is now on my tumblr, forever. That way I never forget how great Clyde and I can be when we're alone. Had Token been able to text us, the argument wouldn't have gone as far as it did.

Not that I don't love Token, because I do, but put me together with a dumbass like Clyde and we will just have the best of times while the rest of the world lives in fear of our greatness. When Tokens is with us, I mature. I feel more teenager with Token and child with Clyde.

When all three of us are together, there's nothing we can't do. We can start a game of tag in a food places child's-only play area. Granted there will be a lot of bruises on our bodies and head trauma where we smack our faces on the way-too-low tops of random tubes an. We will hide when a manager comes out to see what people are complaining about and continue when he leaves. The three of us could go grocery shopping (my mom isn't good about remembering what we have and don't have) and make it fun. We can do anything.

One day, I hope Tweek can join us in our mischief.


	5. Potato Chip Tweek POV

Author Note: Yeah, Craig can play the flute. Remember when he was in that Peruvian flute band? I've been on vacation in another state last week and this week. I miss my computer. With all of it's plotlines and written story documents. I don't remember if I have something written for this chapter, so I'll just write (or re-write, I won't know till Monday)this now.

* * *

Tweek POV

It's lunch time. I'm suffocating trying to make a decision. Starve with Craig or eat alone? Eat alone or starve with Craig? This is tough. I'm pretty hungry today. And not just for Craig's lushious perfection. WHATDIDIJUSTTHINK

...I'm strange. Really strange, I decide, battling a blush.

I need a break from him. Addiction is not good for anyone.

My big stupid onesided crush is controlling me. Or maybe the government stuck something in my head to make me think this way. This hopeless feeling for Craig, which I only got because he stared at me that one day half a month ago, is beyond my understanding. I can't help but feel the way I do. Stupid, stupid me.

Instead of letting this thing I have for Tucker grow, I attempt to squash it. My feet want me to walk to their table. It's not just my feet, though. It's my heart, and my idiotic brain. I head to the parking lot and clear my mind of those thoughts. I eat by myself, and turn a blind eye when my thoughts turn to Craig. I'm glad to eat during lunch; I haven't eaten anything for lunch since a few days ago.

I just cannont eat in front of people. I just find it awkard. And not a wonderful awkward, like when I catch Craig or myself staring at the other. It's a what-am-i-doing-wrong-this-time awkard. It's hellish. My anxiety skyrockets if I do it. What if I eat extremely loudly? What if I forget I have food in my mouth and begin to talk? I don't talk very often, but what if! What if I begin choking and everyone laughs at me! I'd much rather die alone than in front of a bunch of people that didn't save me! Not only would that be degrading, but embarassing too!

RIP Tweek Tweak: Death by potato chip because no one liked him enough to save his sorry ass.

* * *

I arrive to History a little early. No one cares to acknowledge me as I sit down. I'm quite used to this behavior. They ignore me, I ignore them. It's an unspoken agreement. Never speak to that weird twitchy guy, he has problems.

"Gah," I attempt to mutter but it fills the silent room. The two students that are here don't even look over. They know who it is. Pay no attention to my freaky self, please.

I gently put the side of my face on the desk. The desk cools my warm cheek. I dissappoint myself. I can't stop the things that blurt out of my mouth. Why couldn't I be normal? Why couldn't I be mute?

The frown on my face lifts when Clyde and Craig enter. They arrive fashionably late, I suppose. Everyone else is already in their seats. Clyde offers a cheeky smile to the teacher; Craig's pokerface says nothing. When he heads towards our circle-group he sees me.

As I stare up into the gray eyes that are so intently focused on my dumb face, I begin to wonder. Why are you being nice to me? How can someone so popular, so well-known and even a little respected begin hanging out with me? It's insane.

Maybe he's staring because I ditched him during lunch. That sounds reasonable. I hope I didn't piss him off. Ack, I don't want to die! I haven't done anything with my life yet! I have so much to live for! I haven't had coffee since this morning!

Miss (or was it Mrs?) Whats-her-face tells the students to shush. When the room is relatively quiet, she speaks. Our teacher reluctantly tells us we have no work, she has to finish grading papers from previous classes. There is a few "woop"'s and several "YES YEAH-UH ". You'd think the students had won the lottery. It's just an hour of no work, guys, seriously! I roll my eyes. Overdramatic much?

The teacher starts typing on her computer and my eyes wander back to my desk. Our group is one of the calmest, if you don't count Clyde. I spare the shouting hooligan a glance. Clyde's dancing in his seat(it's not just any dance, it's that move people do when listening to "Stayin Alive"),as impossible as it seems, the widest grin on his face. I guffaw. Maybe being not normal isn't so bad. I watch Clyde with mild interest. If I did that, I'd be seen as even more insane and stupid, but when he does it, he's encouraged by people to do it again. Society makes no sense.

I'm still grining when Clyde finishes.

* * *

Shortly after Clyde is done dancing, Craig pipes up.  
He looks at me with a pointed stare then says, "Why didn't you have lunch with us?" His eyebrows are furrowed, his frown set.  
"Sorry," I tell him. I can't think of a good reason other than that I was thinking about him too much. His frown, having not entirely disappeared from my crappy excuse, makes me sad. Sorry. Guilty. I look away.

Craig deadpans, "I'm going to your house tomorrow." My brain stops working. WHAT? MY HOUSE! CRAIG-IN-MY-HOUSE-WHAT

As it turns out, I said that nervous thought outloud. Loudly, outloud. Very loudly, outloud. Embarrased, me? Yes. A thousand times yes. Every head is turned towards me. I do commonly have outbursts, but not about other people.

"Gee, don't sound too excited," Craig continues. He's still looking at me, but it feels like he's talking to everyone. There's this sparkle in his eye that suggests he enjoyed my major freak-out. I can feel people's eyes on me.

After a moment of consideration, I consent. Craig, having stared at me with a confident smirk the entire time I was weighing my options, looks away from me. The blush that appeared when everyone was looking at me has not gone away.

I avoid looking at anyone else in the room.

* * *

Sometime later, everyone has finally looked away.

Craig speaks to Clyde, "Cancel your plans tomorrow." Clyde pouts at Craig, who is turning his head in my direction.

Craig winks.

I choke.


	6. Pixels Tweek POV

Author Note: Two Tweek chapters in a row? Yup. If you were expecting the hanging out at Tweek's house now, I'm sorry. They have to go to school first. Next chapter, Craig follows Tweek home. Chapter after that, let the Creek begin. Oh, and if anyone was wondering why Craig, Clyde, and Tweek share History class, it's because my History teacher changed the desks to make it in circle-group-things. It was awkward. I feel like I'm leaving Token out, so I'm going to try and get more Token in this and the next chapter. Also: I know South Park has its version of Pokemon, but I changed it to regular Pokemon.

* * *

**Pixels **

**Tweek POV**

I was kidnapped today. Token Black somehow figured out where my Computer Applications class is. The gnomes must have told him. The underpants gnomes know all of my secrets. I don't know why or how, they just do. It's best not to question these things. I just can't believe they would tell Token. The traitors! Of course, it could have been another student. My brain tells me that it's the gnomes, though. It's always the fucking gnomes.

Token dragged me for at least one hallway. I had fought when some random person had grabbed me and began pulling me to what was clearly going to be my demise. After I realized who it was, I stopped my assault (actually, it was more of me flailing my arms and trying to become dead weight) and was allowed to walk the rest of the way.

Eventually, when I could no longer stand my curiosity as to why Token had kidnapped me, I voiced my concern.  
"You weren't with us yesterday," he explains, "Craig wouldn't stop bitching about it. It's hard to tell Craig's emotions, but I think he missed you." Craig missed me? A familiar warmth floods my cheeks.  
Token concludes, "I don't like it when my friends are unhappy."  
"You're a good friend, Token," I hear myself say. And it's true; he is a good best friend. He seems to be a great person in general. I find it strange how normal he appears compared to his best friends. If I had friends that were as close as Clyde and Craig are, I'd feel like a third wheel. I don't know how he does it.

The rest of our journey to the cafeteria is silent. I'm content with not having to speak, though. An occasional gah or ack sometimes erupts from me, but everyone's used to it. Most people have tuned it out, by now. Sometimes I wish I could tune it out, too.

We make it to the cafeteria safely. We get in line after Craig and Clyde. Clyde is being extra affectionate today, I wonder what Craig did to deserve such a public display. Clyde, who is behind Craig, has his hands wrapped around Craig's torso. If they do this in person, what do they do when they're alone? Clyde's snuggling Craig's back like it is totally normal and justifiable act for a male highschooler to do this to another human being. Clyde rubs his face in Craig's hoodie. I'd be jealous for Craig, but I know Clyde is straight and Craig's not interested. Craig's not interested in anything, really. Not me. Or Thomas. It makes me both happy and sad. With any luck the feeling will fade and I can enjoy being with this group until they kick me out. Which I know they will. It will take time, but they'll get sick of me. It's happened before. At one point in my life, I was with Stan's group. When they got annoyed by me, I was invited into Wendy's group. After getting kicked out of Wendy's group, I began to sit by what I now call the tree. The tree is one of my safe areas. It typically has a calming effect on me. Sometimes, the tree isn't effective. Last time I was there, when I was debating whether to join Craig's group, it didn't help.

Every once in a while I'm still contacted by the people in my previous groups. Stan and Kyle sometimes say hello. On lucky days, I can have a conversation with them and not screw it up. I'm not very good at talking, since no one has talked to me. Wendy socializes with me about as much as she does to any other student, other than her best friend Bebe who she speaks to constantly. She likes me enough to occasionally speak to me. I like her enough to try and halfway listen when she rants.

Clyde stops snuggling to grab his lunch. We sit at the table. Clyde next to me; Token and Craig on the other side. They eat their food and I sip on my black coffee. I don't need anything in my coffee for it to taste good. I only let myself make my coffee. One day I'll be poisoned by an assassin. It's highly likely the assassin would put it in my everyday drink. In other words, coffee not made by me will kill me. Instantly. Painfully. I have to make it, or it's not drinkable. No exceptions.

Everyone's finished eating. Clyde unzips one of the front pockets on his backpack. Mysteriously, Clyde pulls out a Gameboy from one of the many pockets. Those things are dinosaurs! When's the last time I've seen one, let alone played it? I'm amazed it still works.

Clyde turns it on, and I recognize Pokemon Ruby's beginning song.  
Clyde proudly announces, "I'm getting a shiny starter!" Hah, good luck, I think incredulously. You have a one in eight thousand something chance. I have no shame in saying I once looked it up. I wasn't crazy enough to try it. Even if shiny Pokemon look amazing.

Craig gives Clyde a 'did you know you're a dumbass' look. Or maybe that's just how Craig usually looks at Clyde when he speaks. Token shakes his head and smiles at the exchange. Tucker then boldly states, "You realize you're going to spend countless hours trying to get a few differently colored pixels, right?" This is true. Shiny Pokemon are just differently colored. It's more of the I-accomplished-something that makes people want shiny Pokemon. Then I think about how much time you must have by yourself to want a shiny. It's kind of depressing.

Clyde, having been Craig's friend for a long time, expects a comment like this. He doesn't even pout like he normally does when Craig puts him down. He smiles at Craig as though he was completely oblivious to Craig's hate towards shiny Pokemon. Clyde deserves credit for being able to look Craig in the eyes. It is something I cannot do for long without feeling like mush. Mush feeling isn't all that great. It's rather frightening.

Craig sighs. Clyde makes various noises as he plays his game. Several nooooo's, be shiny!, damn you Pokemon, why don't you love me, and I hate you too's are said. I laugh every time. No regrets. Clyde's too interested in his game to notice me, so it's okay. Occasionally I catch Craig smirking at Clyde in I told you so fashion.

* * *

Lunch hour ends. History begins. We have work today. People in my class are disappointed, but it's not that bad. It's better this way. I suddenly remember that Craig invited himself to my house. I don't know how I forgot earlier. I attempt to focus on work, so I don't have to think about how Craig and Clyde (and probably Token, although I didn't hear Craig invite him) are coming to my house. It's scary for me to think of the destruction that will happen in my home. I'm nervous and worried. The tension will kill me. That is, if the government doesn't do it first.

I stay uneasy all of History. When Craig notices me looking at him, he taps Clyde and they both look up at me and give me coordinated smiles. Not only was it creepy, it didn't help my anxiety at all. I don't even know what they'll do at my house. I don't even do much stuff in my house. I spend most of my time at the coffee shop. I finish homework, work at the coffeehouse until 10 pm, and stay up most-if not all- night staring at nothing and thinking about everything. I get pretty strange after midnight. Lack of sleep and me being overloaded on caffeine really messes with my mind.

When the bell rings, I'm free to leave History class. Craig hasn't told me when he's coming over. I guess he'll tell me after school. Probably, right? Unless the government gets him. Oh no, I hope the government doesn't take him! What will I do with my life? I've been putting effort into this thing with Craig and his friends. It would kill Clyde and Token if Craig just disappeared! They can't take him!

I laugh delightedly at myself. Of course they can't take Craig. Craig could kill any government spies easy. All he would have to do is look into their eyes. They would run. I know they would.


End file.
